Nightwing's Last Flight?
by AJCrane
Summary: The Bat Clan has been banned from Gotham City. Once again they must operate outside the law. While investigating two separate locations, Nightwing is caught within an explosion while Batman is on the other side of the city. Is this Nightwing's Last Flight?
1. Chapter 1

Nightwing's Last Flight?

By

AJ

A/N: This is in reference to Batman Incorporated #8 and #9. If you haven't read it yet, the Bat Clan is in for more troubling times. The Bat Clan and anyone associated with Batman Incorporated have been banned from Gotham City. Batman once again has to operate outside the law. Not everyone agrees with the decision. Two explosions go off at the same time at different ends of the city. Nightwing is caught in one. Batman escapes unscathed from the other, but by splitting up, he chose wrongly.

/

They searched for him all day and into the cold night. It was no use. No one had seen him . . . until . . .

"Oh God!"

His uniform was in tatters, his mask barely concealed his face. His hair was matted with drying blood. And his wounds though they were considered non-life threatening, they were many. He was lucky. There were no broken bones and yet the young vigilante's life signs were slim.

"There is no trauma to the head."

"But where did all this blood come from?"

When they turned him over they saw the extent of his injuries.

"My God, he looks like he's been through a meat grinder. I hope his spine hasn't been severed."

"Careful."

Someone started to remove his mask when a hand stopped him.

"Don't you want to know who he is?" One of the paramedics said. "That way we can notify his family."

"He already has a family. Don't you know who his family is?"

"No, should I?"

"Where've you been working?" The other paramedic asked. 'Never mind."

The paramedic made a call. He didn't believe in what his superiors were saying. Since they had been banned from Gotham, they hadn't been able to handle the load. There were just too many deaths of late, but he knew someone who would take care of things, and he wanted to be certain that the young man got home. Within moments the dark figure that everyone knew, but were forbidden to mention was standing on the roof of a nearby building.

"What on earth?" one of the paramedics stated. "Shouldn't we call the police? He's not supposed to be here."

"He's family."

"Shouldn't we take him to a hospital?"

"And later have him get arrested? Or you try telling the Batman that his son died before he made it to the hospital. At least this way, he could say goodbye."

Minutes later, a dark figure was dropping down to the prone figure that lay in the gurney.

"I'll take him," he said gruffly, trying to keep the emotions from his voice."

"He shouldn't be moved. It might damage his back further. And you shouldn't be here."

Batman turned the prone figure on his side to examine his back. He tried to keep from responding at the damage that he saw. He hesitated for a moment then ran his gloved hand down the your man's spine. He saw a minute response that relieved his fears.

"It's all muscle damage."

"We have to get him to a hospital to stabilize . . ."

The paramedics watched as Batman cradled his son in his arms, shot a grappling hook at a nearby building and was gone.

"He deserves to take his son home," one paramedic said quietly. "They're wrong about keeping you away. After several months, they'll learn to eat their words."

Batman reached the batmobile without incident and within moments. He placed his eldest son in the passenger seat and making certain that he was buckled in just like he did when he was a child. His son though was a grown man, and yet he could not help worrying for his safety. Once Batman was in the car, he hit the stealth mode switch and heading home, he made the call.

"Alfred, prepare for surgery," Batman ordered.

"Master Batman?"

"The explosions yesterday . . ." Batman didn't express the words he had been dreading.

"Explosions?" Alfred's heart dropped to his stomach.

"There were two of them at opposite ends of the city. I . . . I chose the wrong one."

'No!' Images came to Alfred after learning the death of Jason Todd. Then he recalled Batman's first words. Prepare for surgery. "That means he's alive.' With the precision of a man who saw military combat, Alfred prepared the medical bay for triage. Medical instruments were sterilized and placed on a tray. Sedatives and anesthetic were prepared. Bandages and suturing kits were prepped. Everything was ready within a moment as the batmobile roared into the cave carrying its precious cargo. Batman jumped out of the car within seconds after it was parked. He lifted his son out of the passenger side and carried him to the medical bay. He carefully turned him over to expose his back.

"Do what you can," Batman said a pleading in his voice that revealed the emotions behind the mask. It was Bruce who came through, Bruce the guardian, Bruce the friend, Bruce the father more than the rest. And it nearly broke Alfred's heart.

Alfred, however, was not prepared for the devastation that had been done to the young vigilante's back.

"What's happened?" Tim asked as he descended the stairs to the cave. "My God, where did you find him?"

"Go upstairs Tim," Batman commanded. "There is nothing you can do here."

"You should have taken him to a hospital."

"No hospital would have taken him," Batman reminded his butler. "And Leslie Thompkins would have been arrested for harboring us."

"I do not know if I can take care of this much damage," Alfred argued.

"You must. If he dies . . ." the growl was all too clear. Alfred's head would be on the chopping block.

"If he is placed in a coma, he may have a chance," Alfred said. "I . . . please Master Bruce . . . forgive me . . . I . . ."

"Don't mention it Alfred. Just do your best."

Though Bruce feared that maybe Alfred was right. And Alfred's best might not be enough. 'Hang in there Dick. Please don't die. I . . . I lost Jason once. Now I've lost Damian. I can't lose you, too."

Continues with Part 2


	2. Chapter 2

Nightwing's Last Flight?

By

AJ

A/N This part is a little short. There is a Batman Comic that I would have liked to reference, but I don't have it in front of me. Batman was poisoned. He actually gives up and Deadman follows him toward the light. His parents are there along with others whom Batman saved. If I find it, I will add it to this note.

/

Part 2

An artificially induced comma brought on by medication is supposed to help to keep a person stable enough to undergo serious, even life-threatening surgery. A comma that is induced can also cause a person's vital signs to be so low they can be nearly non-existent. And because of it, a person's mind or even spirit can wander.

Nightwing rose from the table and frowned. Alfred was bent over something that he could not see. Bruce stood off to the side, his face a worried mask.

Nightwing found that statement a bit absurd. How could ones face show worry and be a mask at the same time? Nightwing turned away and felt the tug to move upward. He followed the steps up to the manor, his feet barely touching the cold stong. He moved through the familiar rooms until he reached his room. He didn't think anything of it as he passed through the door without opening it. His eyes were drawn to the old poster on the wall above his bed and suddenly he was back there, flying through the air.

He no longer wore the gear of Nightwing. He was once again Dick Grayson. Once again he felt the sensation of flying. His hands were grasped and he looked up to see the face of his father.

"I got you, Son."

"I'm not afraid," Dick replied.

"Good. Always remember, Son. There will always be someone or something to catch you when you fall."

His father's words proved to be true. For the images shifted and this time he was wearing the familiar red, yellow, and green. His bat rope had been cut by an assailant's knife and he found himself falling. Rather than panic Robin allowed himself to go limp. He fell ten stories before his body fell through a series of awnings, breaking his fall. Suddenly, he was caught within strong arms that held him fast. And once again, he remembered his father's words. This time, the strong arms belonged to his guardian. It seemed he was living a charmed life, until the last time. He didn't feel anger or regret. He had fallen, but still someone picked him up. He just needed to find out whom.

Dick Grayson found himself flying once more this time to a bright golden light that felt like home. Two faces greeted him. Even though they looked happy to see him. There was sadness there as well. They knew something he did not.

"My little Robin is no longer little. You have grown so much."

"Mom," Dick exclaimed, his face beaming with joy.

"Don't forget about me."

"Dad." Dick clasped his father's hand feeling the callouses still present on his fingers. "Am I . . ."

"Not quite," John Grayson said. "You have a choice to make."

"A choice?"

"Though we would love to have you with us, there is someone also who need you more."

'I don't understand."

"Have you forgotten your promise?" Mary asked her son.

Dick looked toward his parents with confusion.

"Let us see what happens if you decide to stay."

Dick turned toward where his father pointed. Once again he was back in the bat cave and what he witnessed chilled him to the bone.

Continues with Part 3


	3. Chapter 3

Nightwing's Last Flight?

By

AJ

Part 3

"I'm sorry, Sir . . . I . . . I did the . . . best that I could . . ." Alfred's voice was thick with emotion. "There was too much damage and not enough time." He had feared this very thing. That one of them would come home, he would fail, and that would be the end.

'It can't be true. His wounds weren't life-threatening . . . and yet . . . the blood loss. It was too much. It was too soon. The warehouse explosions were meant to draw us out. This was Talia's doing.'

Bruce approached his dead son, his second in as many months, his eldest, the son that brought the light back into his darkened world, his son whom every day saved him from himself. Bruce brushed his fingers through Dick's unruly hair. 'You could never keep it neat.' Moving his hand down to the young man's cheek, he could still see the boy underneath, the boy who affected him so profoundly, that for a moment, he must have lost his mind and brought him into his world. He took Dick in, gave him something to fight for, and in doing so, the boy freely gave him something more precious than gold. He gave Bruce his love, and that's when he realized that was what the boy had been seeking. 'It wasn't my approval . . . It . . . it was . . . my love. And I never told him.'

Bruce gathered Dick in his arms the way he always would when he fell asleep or was injured and cradled him close. Tears of anguish streamed down his face and he stumbled. Though the weight was nominal, his knees still buckled. He sat down on the steps and rocked his dead son, allowing his grief to swallow him.

'No, this can't be happening,' Dick thought, as he witnessed what was at that moment. His thoughts could not be hidden from his father.

"There is more," John Grayson stated.

What more could there be? Dick did not want to leave Bruce's side, but the pull of wanting to know more drew him away despite the anguish he was feeling for his adopted father. They moved through a veil of mist and it was apparent that time had moved ahead another two years. Tim Drake continued his mantle as Red Robin. He took over in Bludhaven, but on this night, he was gunned down not by the criminals that he had been chasing, but by the cops of Gotham City. Red Robin had crossed the river, forgetting that there was a sanction in place that banned Batman and anyone associated with him. Bruce claimed the body since there was no other to do so. He buried Tim beside his parents.

Barbara Gordon had gone into radio silence. Oracle became a memory. Cassandra had returned to her roots in China, and anyone else associated with Batman Incorporated had faded into the background. And Jason . . .Jason disappeared, never to be heard from again. He was thought to have died, but no one could prove it. The last straw was when Alfred died trying to save Bruce from an assassin's bullet. Even so, that assassin struck trice, wounding Bruce in his right leg, which would never fully heal. Afterward, Bruce went into seclusion, rarely being seen in public unless he absolutely had to.

"NO! That hasn't happened," Dick admonished.

"Yes, it did," John Grayson stated. "It would be twenty years before Batman was seen again, but it would be a new Batman. Even so, with your death, that light that helped Bruce and kept him from being swallowed into the darkness was gone. Timothy Drake may have convinced him once that Batman needed Robin, but it was Bruce who needed his son."

"His son?" Dick questioned. "Damian was his son. Bruce may have adopted me, but I'm your son."

John Grayson shook his head. "I only wish that were true. In this place there are no secrets." He turned toward his wife. Her eyes had the same color as her son's.

Mary Grayson explained how she met a very young Bruce Wayne. "I never told John because he adored you so. And I never contacted Bruce. It would not have been fair to him. I do not know the circumstances of him being there that night," Mary said. "But I will be forever grateful. You did not become one of those monsters the way you were chosen to be. We have watched you grow and we are proud of you."

The revelation that John Grayson wasn't his father struck Dick like an arrow from Speedy's bow. And yet, to see Bruce become so broken due to his death tore at him more. And to learn that Bruce was truly his father and he needed him . . .

"I . . . I . . . I need to go back."

"Are you certain?"

"You can stay," Mary pleaded. "You have done enough."

"No," Dick said. "I didn't keep my promise. I didn't watch his back."

"He has the others for that," his mother continued to plead her case.

'With what you showed me?' Dick's words became credulous. "You told me I didn't keep my promise. You're showing me a world where I died and . . . Jason and Tim . . . Why are you trying to sway me to stay? Why did you show me that if you wanted me to stay? I must go back. If my light as you imply keeps all that from happening, then I have no right to be here. He's lost enough."

Mary nodded toward her husband and knew her son passed the test. It wasn't his time, but she needed him to see that and to know how the world would change if he had chosen to stay. There was also one more thing she didn't have a chance to do and she wanted to do it now before it was too late to do so.

"Wait, before you go, take this," Mary placed something in Dick's hand. It contains your father's picture. Show it to him."

And Dick Grayson turned his back on the light of eternal peace and happiness. As he walked away, the darkness crept closer, enveloping him in its inky embrace.

Continues with Part 4

A/N: Reference to Batman Beyond. For me, Batman Beyond just isn't my world. Bruce may be in it, and there is another Batman in his place, it just doesn't seem right. It's missing something. I figured that if Dick had died, then something like Batman Beyond might come to pass. And for me, there's just something not right about it. Maybe because Dick is no longer in the picture and there isn't even a Robin. And Barbara Gordon is the commissioner and a very bitter woman as well. Not at all what I would have pictured the future of Batman to be.


	4. Chapter 4

Nightwing's Last Flight?

By

AJ

The beeping of the heart monitor got stronger, becoming steadier. Alfred's eyes became wide. For a moment he could have sworn that . . . "Master Bruce."

Bruce Wayne rushed forward and saw for himself the heartbeat of his son growing stronger.

'He's alive,' he thought. 'My God after all that he's really alive. He . . .' No, he didn't want to jinx it. Grabbing his son's hand Bruce gave it a squeeze. He didn't expect the squeeze to be returned. It was enough. Tears rimmed Bruce's eyes. It wasn't too late. They had more time.

"Did you get everything?" Bruce asked.

'I repaired most of the damage. He's going to need extensive recovery time. Once he's stronger, I can get the rest."

Bruce ran his hand through Dick's hair. "You're safe, and you're home.' He was grateful they lived outside of Gotham. They would have time to strategize to go back to the beginning, to do what Batman and his birds were meant to do, protect Gotham. Once again they would have to operate outside the law and at night, to make certain they weren't seen, to rebuild the trust and the faith that they had over the years with the police. They might still be able to count on Gordon, but eventually Commissioner Gordon would retire and that meant trying to build trust with someone else. Batman Incorporated had been an idea, a dream that turned out to be a disaster. Talia saw to that and it was Damian who paid the ultimate price for it.

'Oh . . . I think I zigged when I should have zagged," Dick said.

"Dick, you're awake," Bruce stated.

'Is Tim okay? Tim's not . . . And Jason? Is he . . ." Dick tried to sit up,

"Whoa, take it easy, you just went through surgery," Bruce said as he pushed Dick back down on his stomach. "I sent Tim upstairs soon after I returned home with you. Jason is at the bunker. He's monitoring Talia's whereabouts."

"The sanctions . . ."

"Are still in place for now," Bruce stated. "Get some rest."

As Dick slipped into natural sleep, something slipped from his hand. It was a locket. Bruce bent down to pick it up. It was one that he had not seen in years. He remembered the young woman who wore it; her raven hair and striking blue eyes . . . Dick's eyes were the same color. At that moment, Dick mumbled something in his sleep.

"I'll remember, Mom . . . Show pictures to meh dad . . . to Bruce."

What was Dick talking about? What puzzled Bruce more was how the locket got into Dick's hand. It hadn't been in his hand when the paramedics found Dick or even when Bruce brought him home. The locket wasn't small but neither was it large. It fit comfortably in ones hand, just the right size to grasp. He would have waited until Dick was awake, but something tugged at the back of his mind. Taking a chair and sitting next to his son, Bruce grasped the locket in both hands, and working at the seam, he popped it open. A small slip of paper fell to the floor, but inside the locket were two pictures, one of a child around two years of age, and another of a young man that Bruce knew all too well and yet he had not seen that face in many years. 'Was I ever that young?'

The small slip of paper caught his attention between his feet. He picked it up and carefully unfolded it. It was a short letter written in a tight neat hand. What was written on that letter gave Bruce hope once more to his darkened world.

_Bruce,_

_I know you have to leave and I would never keep you from your mission. That is why I did not tell you. He is your son, not John's. I will keep the truth a secret less it would hurt him deeply. Some day I hope you will get to meet him, your son, Richard John Grayson-Wayne._

_With All My Love,_

_Mary_

Folding the small letter back into the square that it originated, Bruce took one more look at the smiling child in the photo then turned to look at his sleeping son. So after all these years, Bruce hadn't realized he had adopted his own son. He could do a paternity test just to be sure, but did that really matter after all this time? He had always felt a strong . . . fatherly connection . . . And even though he felt uncertain during those early days, that connection had grown stronger. Out of the four boys, Dick was always the one he could talk to the easiest.

'Just like Mary," he thought, a long forgotten memory blossomed in his mind. And he did remember, the long walks on the beach, the tightrope lessons, and the sudden passion that erupted between them his last night. 'I would have given up everything if I had known. She knew and she let me go anyway. And without realizing it, I brought my son home.'

Bruce brushed his hand along his sleeping son's cheek. Instinctively, Dick moved a little closer to feel the warmth of that caress. Then Bruce leaned in and whispered in his son's ear as he did the first time they met.

'Have a dreamless sleep, my son," amending with " . . . I love you."

And just as Bruce was about to leave, Dick sleepily said with that special smile just for him, "I love you, too . . . Dad."

End


End file.
